


The Art of Making Flowers Alive

by wrendering



Series: Photographs [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Flowers, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Romance if you really squint, or if you've read the main fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:14:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22623121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrendering/pseuds/wrendering
Summary: "I didn't realize that Yamanaka had a competitor."Masako's begun her search for who she is outside of her duties, and decides to start with the most basic of all things: a hobby. But she finds herself at a bit of a loss, because the concept of free time used for herself and not training for the next mission has become a depressing fiction in her life.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Original Female Character(s), Minor Sarutobi Asuma/Kurenai Yuuhi, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Photographs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1627630
Kudos: 40





	The Art of Making Flowers Alive

**Author's Note:**

> A one-shot that didn't really fit into the main fic, that takes place almost immediately after Chapter 5. Can be read by itself, but works a lot better if you've read the other one.

Near-death experiences tended to be accompanied by bouts of clarity. When Masako had confessed to Kakashi that she was losing her way, she had meant it. As ANBU, she knew that she would have to live her life in the scant places in-between missions; she had just never tried very hard at it. In the beginning, she’d always been tired out by the new demands of the cause, and it had just become an easy habit.

In fact, she didn’t even have any hobbies.

Most people had them, civilian and ninja alike. Even the people in her squad had things they liked to do in their free time – Shun had his tea ceremonies, Kaname had his history books, Yuta and Yūki had annoying Kaname to death, Chizuru had failed attempts to flirt with women. Asuma and Kurenai enjoyed each other, and even _Kakashi_ had a hobby, though he would never be caught dead with the crap that she knew he read in secret.

“That’s the first thing I’m going to change,” she told Kurenai a few days later.

“Well,” her friend said, beaming at her. “It’s about time. Haven’t I been telling you for months now?”

“Do you want me to grovel on my knees and say you were right?”

“No, no. The floor is too dirty.” The hole in the wall barbecue place was their traditional post-mission celebratory spot; although it was a ‘bit of a shithole’, as Masako liked to say, it was theirs. And the food was cheap, too. 

“The problem is,” Masako said, the words muffled through her mouthful of rice, “I don’t even know where to start.”

“People usually start with things that they like,” Kurenai said, with infinite patience for her shocking table manners. “Make a list. I’m free for the next hour – we can go looking for supplies and then you can go home and decide which one you like best.” 

That was how, later in the evening, Masako found herself in front of her bed with an obscene amount of Yamanaka’s finest specimens and a mountain of other supplies before her; wincing a little at her still-sore abdomen, Masako made herself comfortable before she read through the opening passage on the book that Kurenai had lent her.

_With numerous schools of thought, there are a multitude of ways to approach the esteemed art of Ikebana. The first is ikenobō, considered the original…_

By the time she’d reached the end of the book, Masako had discovered two things. The first was that ikebana had a long and complex history. The second was that like in most things in life, the mastery of the art was a long and complex path. Unfortunately, the book had failed to convince her that it was worth taking that first step.

“I didn’t realize that Yamanaka had a competitor,” said a voice just outside her window.

Instincts taking over, Masako had her katana pressed to the side of Kakashi’s neck before she recognized him.

“Y-what are you doing in my apartment?”

Lowering her weapon, she saw him scratch the back of his neck. If she didn’t know him better, Masako would’ve said he looked slightly sheepish.

“ _Technically_ ,” he said, emphasizing the word, “Technically, I’m outside of your apartment.”

Masako rolled her eyes, but stepped back to let him in. “You could’ve knocked on the front door. It’s not like you don’t know where it is.”

Now that he was inside, he just stood there with hands shoved in his pockets as his carefully trained gaze swept the room. It suddenly occurred to Masako that this was the first time Kakashi had ever been inside her bedroom; she wasn’t sure what to make of it, and so dismissed it as inconsequential.

“Ikebana?”

Sighing, Masako bent down to retrieve her abandoned book. “I was trying to see if I would enjoy it. But – don’t tell Kurenai – I think that it’s a bit…I just don’t think it’s for me.”

“Ah,” was all he said, still standing there.

Masako almost laughed at how awkward he looked, before she belatedly realized that she had forgotten her manners again.

“You can sit down, you know,” she said. Furnishing the rest of the room hadn’t been one of her priorities, so she had no choice but to point to the bed. 

“Thanks.” Kakashi sat as close to the edge as possible, before motioning towards the flowers. “You bought all the flowers and then decided you didn’t want to pursue ikebana?” 

“Yeah, I know. I think I should’ve read the book before I spent all my money on them,” Masako said, heaving an even deeper sigh as she flung herself onto the floor. Inoichi Yamanaka was an excellent ninja, and an even better salesman; between him, Kurenai, and her newfound determination to refocus her life, she’d gotten carried away.

“What are you going to do with them?” As always, Kakashi asked the real, practical questions.

“With what I spent on them? I’m going to make the most beautiful arrangements Konoha has ever seen.” Holding out the book, she shot him a playful smile. “Care to join me?” 

She was joking, of course, fully expecting him to refuse; but he surprised her yet again. Taking the book, he slipped off the bed and settled himself on the floor next to her.

“I don’t know anything about ikebana, but I’m a quick reader. If you start, I’ll catch up with you.”

* * *

Neither of them willing to make anything half-hearted, it was the early hours of the morning before the pair finished, surrounded by picture-perfect arrangements.

“We did pretty well,” Masako said, satisfied.

“Well,” Kakashi said, still looking between a chapter in the book and his final construction with a critical eye. “At least the flowers are all used up.”

“That too.”

“But why ikebana?” Apparently, his arrangement had passed muster, because he snapped the book shut and put it down.

“Remember the conversation we had in the hospital?” Masako had to cover her yawn with her hand before continuing, and missed his sharp intake of breath. “I just thought that it would be good for me have a hobby, to fill my free time like everyone else.”

“And you thought ikebana would be something you’d enjoy?” The incredulity in his tone was understandable, so she didn’t take offense.

“I mean, I like flowers, so it’s not _that_ far out of left field. It just turned out that I enjoy looking at art but not making it," she said, realizing that she had one of those oh-so-rare openings. "Kind of like how you refuse to get a girlfriend but read badly-written porn when you think no one’s watching."

To her delight, the sly remark was rewarded with a faint blush on the uncovered part of his face and a sudden refusal to look at her in the eye; his composure was notoriously difficult to shake, but that only made Masako work harder at it, and savor it when it happened.

“I don’t read _porn_.”

“Really? I saw you, just before the last time we had training together – ‘The Blooming Rose of the Desert’. It’s so ridiculous, the heroine faints into the ninja’s arms like five times in the first chapter. ”

A beat, and then Masako caught her mistake. Unfortunately for her, Kakashi had caught it too.

“How would you know that?”

“Uh, I…well, I was only curious! You were really into it, you know. I thought that you might have good literary taste, since you’re _supposed_ to be a genius!”

“But you still read it,” he said, beginning to take on an insufferable tone. “So you can’t take the higher moral ground.”

Before she could snipe back at him, he changed the subject.

“What are we going to do with all of these arrangements?”

Looking at her crowded bedroom floor, Masako’s annoyance evaporated as realization dawned on her.

“Ah, shit. I didn’t think about that.”

* * *

“Oh, that’s beautiful!”

Kurenai seemed appropriately impressed with the gift that Masako had brought for her.

“To be honest, I wasn’t really _that_ into it, but I’m glad I tried. Consider this a thank you, for helping me get all the supplies yesterday.”

“Well, if you have any leftover flowers, feel free to donate them to me,” Kurenai laughed, still admiring the peonies. “I could always use some more pieces in my arrangements.”

“Oh. Actually, Kakashi and I used all of them up last night,” Masako said, a little apologetic. “I didn’t want to waste the flowers.”

At the mention of Kakashi, her friend raised her eyebrows. “Kakashi? He helped you with this?”

“This and about fifteen others.”

“Hm,” was all that Kurenai said, before returning her attention to the peonies. Masako was relieved that she hadn’t jumped to conclusions – Kakashi hated love gossip, and she didn’t want to have to explain that she’d inadvertently started a rumor about them. Without asking to be invited in, Masako walked into Kurenai's apartment, beginning to outline the next thing she wanted to try out.

“Anyway, I was thinking - hey, Asuma - about getting my mother to teach me some of her recipes…”

* * *

Half an hour later, Masako left, filled to the brim with renewed hope and the promise to bring around any successful culinary experiments.

Asuma looked at his not-girlfriend in bemusement. 

"What was that you were saying about Kakashi?"

"He went to her house," Kurenai said, sitting down next to him. "Helping her with arranging flowers, of all things. He must've spent the whole night there." 

Lighting a cigarette, it took him ten seconds to arrive at the same conclusion Kurenai had.

"I give him three years."

"No way," she replied. "At least four, and it'll be her who confesses."

"Wanna bet?"

"Sure, because I'll win."

* * *

For three years after that, Masako never really gave another thought to the art or the language of flowers; that is, until a vase of camellias were placed by her door.


End file.
